Youth
by just-a-story
Summary: Oliver has a daughter. A daughter that he didn't even know existed because of Moira, who paid the mother 2 million dollars to disappear from her son's life. Now the kid is an orphan, and there was a knock at the door of the Queen mansion, from a social worker. *Hints of Olicity*
1. I Don't Have A Daughter

**Chapter I**  
><strong>I Don't Have A Daughter <strong>

"So it must get kind of lonely," Thea commented while taking an ornament down from the tree. "Ollie?"

Oliver's head moved up to look at his sister who was standing on a step stool. "Hm?"

"You ok?" His sister asked with furrowed eyebrows.

He forced a smile at his sister. "Just tired." It wasn't a lie, he was in fact tired. But more specifically he was tired from chasing down a serial killer the previous night. In his defense it was six o'clock in the morning and his day off from the office. He didn't even notice his sister climb down from the small freestanding ladder.

"Do you need me to get you anything? You look like you got hit by a bus." Thea crossed her arms and looked up at her brother with concern in her eyes.

Before he could open his mouth he heard a knock on the door. His head turned and he looked back at Thea. He smiled and raised his index finger. "One second."

She followed him over to the door and watched as the door opened exposing a woman who was dressed in business suit. "Mr. Oliver Queen?" The woman asked in a very formal tone, "I'm with child services and if you have a minute..."

Oliver stepped out of the doorway and allowed the woman to enter into the foyer.

"Is there a place we could talk?" She asked.

He looked over at his sister who was standing by his side. "Thea, would you please excuse me?"

She starred at her brother for a moment and then looked at the woman. "I'll go make some coffee."

As Thea left Oliver walked the woman into the main living room. "What can I do for you?" He asked as he took a seat on the couch.

The social worker sat across from him and smiled. She crossed her legs, and lifted a briefcase onto the cushion beside her. When opening it up she took out a rather small file. "If my knowledge is correct about eight years ago you had a daughter?"

For a second Oliver simply looked at the woman. He blinked a few times and he tried to find something to say but for some reason now sound would come out of his mouth.

"Constance," The woman told him. "She is eight ye-"

"I think you are mistaking me for someone else." Oliver told her. "I don't have a daughter."

The woman looked down at her heels and opened the file. "I believe that you are the only Oliver Queen in Starling city, am I correct?" She handed him the file and straightened her jacket.

He took the file but his eyes didn't leave the woman's.

"If you will...take a look, I'm sure something is bound to draw your attention."

His eyes fell to the folder; he began to skim the document but his eyes stopped at the picture that was clipped to the folder. A small girl, must been younger than ten, she had light brown hair and ocean blue eyes. He looked at her expression, it had seemed lifeless. An expression that he knew all to well.

"Sandra, her mother passed away a little less than a week ago. The department wanted to place her into the system but since my time working with Constance, she has asked me the same question every morning and every night."

Oliver's eyes didn't leave the image, he listened to the woman's words and he wanted to close the file and shove it back at her claiming there must be some mistake.

"She wanted to know who are." She paused as she watched the man close the folder. "But you have every right to decline but your agreement is required before we take the next step."

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><p><strong>Well that probably sucked on a variety of different levels but you know, that's ok... I'll continue if there is interest though, I could easily keep this going until the hiatus is over. ... If anyone wants to let me know what they thought that would be great. This is my first story in the fandom so I'm still trying to get a feel for all the characters, so please: criticismhelpfulness = happy happy me. Any ideas you guys have I would ABSOLUTLEY love to hear.**

**(And yes the kids name is Constance [Connie] that is my take on a girl name version for Connor [The Green Arrow's son in the comics])**


	2. Only If You Want To

**This is by far the best fandom I have EVER experienced...to thoughs who reviewed you are the sweetest people, thank you so so much! It has been quite some time before I got that much feedback in one chapter. I was kinda smiling like an idiot but thats ok :) Also, sorry for the first chapter being short. I really wasn't sure how this would go so I didn't write a lot. Hopefully you find this one to be longer**

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><p><strong>Chapter II<strong>  
><strong>Only If You Want To<strong>

_"Sandra, her mother passed away a little less than a week ago. The department wanted to place her into the system but since my time working with Constance, she has asked me the same question every morning and every night."_

_Oliver's eyes didn't leave the image, he listened to the woman's words and he wanted to close the file and shove it back at her claiming there must be some mistake yet he was more focused on the image._

_"She wanted to know who are." She paused as she watched the man close the finally folder. "But you have every right to decline but your agreement is required before we take the next step."_

He cleared his throat as he leaned forward to place the document on the table between them. Even if Sandra did lie to him all those years...why? What made her keep this to herself? "You mentioned the mother," Oliver began.

The woman nodded as she dropped her head slightly. "Yes, Ms. Hawke was a victim of a recent homicide in Central City a few weeks ago." She paused for a second expecting the man to do something, maybe hang his head in sorrow. However he didn't. He looked up at her and nodded. "I'm sorry," She told him. "I must tell you that our number one priority is the child's well being and all that we ask is that you take that into consideration. Many family's we find to place the kids with are open to visitors."

Oliver took in a breath and looked out the window behind the model sailboat. The house was big enough. Hell, the house could fit three families. He could schedule babysitting while he was at work. How old was she? 8? Maybe even leave her with some snacks and a puzzle or something and have Raisa keep an eye on her. No. What was he even saying? He can't have a kid, he is up to his neck in work at the company and a vigilante. His eyes moved over towards the file on the table. How could he trick himself into thinking that it was even a possibility. Plus the girl's mother was murdered, he couldn't drag an innocent eight year old into his own crazy world. "When do you need an answer by?" He bit his tongue and mentally cursed when the words escaped his mouth.

"As soon as possible is preferred. Like I said earlier the child's well being is our main priority. The most we can give you is a week." She raised to her feet and took out a pocketbook, "This is my card if you need to call me at anytime." She smiled as Oliver took the slip of paper between his fingers. "Mr. Queen I can't possibly imagine what you are going through seeing as though you weren't aware you even had a daughter but please know she is one of the sweestest little girl I have worked with in my twenty five years of being in this line of work."

"Thank you." Oliver spoke in a quite tone but a smile was there. He walked the woman to the door and she turned around once agian before making her way back to her car.

"I'm sorry for your loss as well." She gripped her hands tighter on her breifcase.

Oliver nodded and replied with a simple 'thank you.' He closed the door once the woman had left. His fingers played with the card in his hands absentmindly as he replayed what just occured over and over in his head.

"Ollie?"

He took in a quick breath and looked towards the staircase seeing Thea with concern written all over her face.

"Who died?" She asked in a voice without emotion.

He slipped the card into his pocket, luckily Thea didn't even notice, and made his way to the end of the staircase. "An old friend." He said with a forced smile. Which he had now mastered considering almost every smile that formed on his lips was fake.

"So a social worker?" She raised an eyebrow at her brother as she crossed her arms.

He breathed in, "Uh, yeah."

"Isn't it usually the police that come to the door and tell you someone died?"

He curled his lips inward and titled his head. "I don't know."

"Well you don't seem very affected."

"I..." He paused for a moment. "I've learned it's a part of life."

Thea slowly nodded and she put a hand on her brother's shoulder. "I have to get back to the apartment anyway, I have some movers coming. Call me if you need anything."

He gave his sister an apologic smile and she forced a smile back. "Dinner?" He called to her as she reached the front door.

Thea shrugged. "Sure."

...

"Never really saw you as a Chinese food person."

Oliver looked up from sharpening the arrows; something he found himself doing every time he had something on his mind. He forgot to through away the Chinese take out box that sat on the desk a few inches away. "Hi Felicity."

She walked over to him, taking a seat on the stool on the other side of the desk. She crossed her legs and sat back in the chair. "Why you down here?"

He lifted a freshly sharpened arrow and raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, not that...you're not...allowed down here," She paused for a moment mentally counting to three. "I thought you would be at the office."

Oliver got to his feet with an arrow in his hand and made his way over to the glass case. He gently placed it into the holder. "I decided to take a personal day."

Felicity slowly nodded. "So you're down here sharpening arrows?"

He turned around to face her and crossed his arms. "What are _you_ doing down here?"

"On lunch," She told him looking over at the empty Chinese takeout box. "And I forgot my scarf last night." She looked around then stopped and pointed to the chair that had Oliver's coat on it. "Which I think is there." She walked over towards the chair by the computers and moved his coat causing something to fall from his pocket. She grabbed her scarft then moved to grab the small card. She flipped it over and furrowed her eyebrows. "This yours?" She handed it to him. "Child servives?"

Oliver swallowed. "It's my...cousin...cousins daughter."

Felicity nodded. "Didn't know you had a cousin." She paused for a brief moment. "Then again I don't know a lot about you...which is fine...because-"

"Felicity."

"You're going to take her?" She asked in a suprised yet excited tone.

"I-"

"I think you would be a great dad...or uncle...or it is a cousin?"

He took in a breath and placed a hand on Felicity's shoulder. "Can I ask you something?" He watched her nod which caused him to continue. "Don't mention anything to Diggle, or Roy...or Thea."

She titled her head but then nodded once more. "Yeah of course."

He ran his hands through his hair as he made his way over to the desk to continue sharpening the arrows.

"Oliver?" Felicity asked in a small voice.

"Hm?"

"I think you would be a really great dad." She paused for a moment realizing he was staring blankly at the metal desk. "No matter what choice you make, it'll be the right one." She smiled as she wrapped the scarf around her neck. "Now if you'd excuse me I have some secretary-ing to get back to."

He looked up as she reached the first step. "Felicity?"

"Yeah?" She replied quick looking over the railing.

"Thank you."

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><p><strong>I really want this to turn out to be a good story and your comments from the first chapter where aboslutly heart warming so thank you. I hope you enjoyed this chapter too. As always, any ideas or opinions are greatly appreciated. My biggest pet-peeve is when a character seems OOC so if that it ever the case in this story please let me know! As always thank you to every single one of you, you rock! :)<strong>


	3. Show Me Something That Isnt Ink On Paper

Gosh, seeing all the interest in this is just so amazing. I'm so happy, thank you :)

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><p><strong>Chapter III<br>Show Me Something That Isn't Ink On Paper**

_"Oliver?" Felicity asked in a small voice._

_"Hmm?"_

_"I think you would be a really great dad." She paused for a moment realizing he was staring blankly at the metal desk. "No matter what choice you make, it'll be the right one." She smiled as she wrapped the scarf around her neck. "Now if you'd excuse me I have some secretary-ing to get back to."_

_He looked up as she reached the first step. "Felicity?"_

_"Yeah?" She replied quick looking over the railing._

_"Thank you."_

He watched her walk up the rest of the stairs and heard the echo of the door closing. Taking in a breath, he leaned back in the chair only to let out a big sigh. Why he was so afraid of making the wrong choice, he didn't know. But he couldn't ignore that little bit of excitement that he felt. It was as if someone came to him and told him, here are two lives, pick the one you want. His eyes closed in frustration. Why was this so difficult? He had to be a fool to think that having a kid was even a possibility for him. He opened his eyes and looked down at the desk, the little slip of paper that seemed to haunt him. A sigh escaped through his lips as his picked up the card, flipping it over in his hands. 506-598-6732. He read that number over and over again in his head, before he found his hands clutching his cell phone. It wasn't that he wanted the child, or Connie, as the woman said her name was. It was that he wanted to see something that wasn't just ink on paper. He wanted proof before he took it into real consideration. If he was being honest to himself, he wanted a reason to stop thinking about her. About his- nope, it wasn't his. It was a mistake. Because there is absolutely no way he had a daughter. The woman was mistaken. His mother looked in his eyes and told him that Sandra lost the child. Hell, he saw Sandra. At the coffee shop in Central City only a few weeks ago and she didn't say anything and that was a few weeks ago. How could she be dead? How could she not tell him? How could she look him in the eyes and say _nothing_. His thoughts came to a halt as he shook his head. She didn't say anything because she _did_ loose the kid. She _did_ have a miscarriage eight years ago. It wasn't his child. It couldn't be.

"Central City Child Services, this is Kelsey Harland." A woman's voice echoed in his ear causing a breath to catch in his throat. "Hello?"

He swallowed followed by taking in a big breath of air. "Hi Kelsey, it's Oliver Queen."

"Oliver," It was said in a joyful tone in which he could almost hear the smile. "It's nice to be hearing from you, what can I do for you?"

He released his teeth from biting into his lower lip. "I was hoping I could get a paternity test." He took on of the arrows in his hands, flipping it around in his fingers, noticing his voice was rather steady.

There was a pause at the other end of the line. "I'm sorry Mr. Queen you will have to contact your local hospital, but I can provide a DNA sample from her."

He found his teeth once again gripping to his bottom lip.

"Mr. Queen?"

"Uh, yes that would be great. Starling Hospital if you will."

There was another pause. He assumed she was writing something down. "I will get right on that."

"Thank you," He replied, smiling to himself.

"I will send that in and if you could get an appointment we should be able to get the results in a few days, the city wants to get her situated as soon as possible."

He nodded on his end of the line. As he did too, want an answer. Even though he was pretty confident it would have no impact on his final decision. However he did want to give the kid proof that he was her father, the agency too.

...

The woman hung up the phone and let out a sigh as she placed her cell on the counter.

"Who was that?"

The social worker looked up at the young girl sitting at one of the bar stools. "Just a client." The woman paused and looked at the 8 year old girl who sat at the barstool. "Ready for lunch?"

...

"Oliver!"

His head shot up from the menu only to witness the daggers that Thea was giving him. If looks could kill, he'd be a goner.

"Ollie" Her voice was stern, something he wasn't found of hearing but as days went on he was getting more and more used to it.

He shifted in his seat, now looking at the waitress who stood about three feet away with pen and paper in hand. "I-I can give you another minute..." She looked over at Thea who shook her head. "It's fine, my brother he's-"

"I'll have the Seared Filet Mignon." He smiled at the waitress followed by a smile towards his sister. He watched as his sister closed her menu and he did the same, handing them both to the waitress.

Thea watched the waitress walk and turn a corner. "I'm sorry about your friend-" She shut her mouth when she noticed her brother was staring at something-someone a few yards away. Her eyes followed her brother's gaze as he was looking at the window. Watching a woman holding hands with a girl that could be no more than five years old.

"Don't be," He told her causing her eyes to quickly shift back. "I was expecting the news." He lied. "She was in the hospital." He lied. "She was sixty-seven." He lied. "Someone from the company." He bit his tongue.

Thea shook her head causing Oliver to stop forming words. "Anyway..."

He didn't say anything, but he offered a small smile. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head once more, "Ollie...it's ok. I'm sorry I snapped at you with the waitress. I'm just...worried about you."

"I'm fine."

Thea took a sip of her wine, "When is the wake?"

He shifted in his seat and looked up at his sister. "I'm not sure I'm going to go."

She tilted her head, only slightly, giving her brother a sympathetic look. "I can go with you-"

Oliver shook his head but kept a smile on his lips.

"You said she was from your company, you're the CEO, you should be there." As she continued through the sentence each word became a bit sharper. Half of her didn't understand why he wasn't going to go. But the other half wondered if he simply couldn't handle it since their mothers passing. "Oliver, I'll go with you."

He took in a breath as his eyes were glued to the tablecloth. "You don't have to." He paused for a moment. Absentmindedly studying the stitching pattern on the fabric.

She nodded not wanting to push.

For the rest of the night neither talked much. He mentioned some things about the company and she talked about her new apartment, along with the popularity of Verdant. All the words she told him that night occupied the front of his brain. There was still a lingering conversation going on in the back of his head. He wanted a test. A test to see if this in fact was her daughter. Even though he knew fairly well what he wanted the answer to be; what he hoped the answer would be.

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><p>So the clarify Connie, Oliver's daughter, is living with the social worker. I know that never happens but it will be explained. Thank you so much for being wonderful readers, you're awesome! :)<p> 


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